Mindless
by Suma Akila
Summary: Ichi/Aizen. What if everything you know, everything you love, is viciously ripped away? What if the one person that is there, is the one who took it all away? What if, Just what if, All you have known, is simply an IllUsiOn. Would YOU keep your sanity?
1. Prologue

Mindless

Prologue

He moves slowly, feet dragging somewhat against the asphalt, head bowed. The only sound is of his feet scuffling, his breathing too shallow to be heard, his arms limp at his sides.

His grown out hair, brushing in matted clumps against his shoulders, is dulled to a strange rusty orange color, having lost its previous luster.

The cold night air does not seem to have any effect on him, the wind shifting his clothing as it whispers through the empty streets. He continues on seemingly mindlessly, trailing drops of blood as he goes, though he does not seem to limp or cringe or be in any sort of pain.

He has a single destination repeating in his mind, over and over again, as if a chant. _Karakura town. Karakura. Karakura. Karakura. _

Where in Karakura?

He knows where, the vision rising up in the back of his mind, flooding his conscious mind. The small building, the familiar window, one he has had to climb in and out of so many times before.

_Karakura._

Obsession, almost. His feet carry him, and he finally arrives, the dark clinic before him crying out for him to leave, to turn away. He ignores it, his hand raising to take a hold of the door, wrenching it open even though his arm is slicked with fresh blood, dried blood, dirt. Scratches, slashes, scars.

Effortlessly.

He moves inside, already aware of the man within waking and coming, coming to stop the intruder. To stop him.

_Karakura._

He stands there, waiting, dripping blood. The man stumbles to a stop a few feet away, something of a weapon in his hand, raised in defensive posture.

And he finally looks up, slowly, through limp and dirtied bangs, hair that falls down to his lips. He looks up, slowly, trailing those eyes to meet the gaze of the other.

He looks up with blank eyes, hooded eyes, eyes the color of honeyed brown, instead of yellow, but still floating in an endless sea of black.

There is a moment, a pause, where the very universe itself seems to take a deep, shuttering breath, and then whatever it is that the other man is holding in his hand, that thing that cannot be identified, clatters to the ground and he is moving forward with a shocked expression written on his features, his hands reaching out.

He feels himself falling, detached, his eyes watching as he nears the ground, and then hands are on him, arms are stabilizing him, and a voice that he recognizes but cannot place is calling out to him frantically, loudly.

"Ichigo. Ichigo!"

And then his world goes black.

…..


	2. Scramble

Mindless

Scramble

_Blood. _

_It is everywhere, coating the walls, making the floors slippery, making him queasy with the irony, salty scent of it. Though it is getting easier to bear, easier to ignore. It is always there, after all. _

_Day after day. Fresh and warm and flowing. _

_How long has it been? Not that it matters. He rolls his eyes to the side, chin following, as the sound of the door opening breaches his mind, drawing him out of his small reverie. And then he enters. _

_Brown curly hair, slicked back in easy fashion, one strand left to hang between eyebrows. He knows he should get up and start spitting out obscenities, but there is no real reason for it. It would do no good for such actions. A waste of energy. _

"_Will you do it this time?"_

_The voice is the same voice he's been hearing all of this time, and he lifts his naked form off of the blood slicked floor, places his hand on the blood spattered wall for stabilization, tangled and matted hair falling in front of his eyes. He does not waste the energy to swipe the offending locks away. _

_He does not move more than that, watching with weary brown eyes. He is tired. So tired. How long has it been?_

"_I suppose not, then."_

_And then the man is moving out, away from the room soaked in blood, peering back over his shoulder with a slow smile, the door closing behind him with a creek, but not before his voice slides out. _

"_It's only a matter of time."_

….

"And he's been like that since he appeared?"

Urahara looks sidelong at Isshin, hiding the lower portion of his face from view, though his eyes speak of trouble. Isshin rubs roughly at his facial hair, letting out a ragged sigh.

"Yeah. Won't speak a word either. It took me scrubbing him in the shower for him to get clean."

They both pause, letting this information sink deep into each of them as they turn their eyes on the current subject of conversation.

He is sitting at the table, quietly, his eyes staring at nothing. His legs are crossed, demurely, his shoulders somewhat hunched over. Isshin has left his hair long, though now it hangs clean and low, weighted down with its length.

Those eerie eyes show no pain, show no anger, show no fear. Isshin feels a strange shiver creep up his spine and he has to look away, back at Urahara, who seems to be considering something in that genius mind of his.

There is a long stretch of silence, where Ichigo does not move an inch, and then Urahara takes a deep breath and looks up at the ceiling, his voice drawling out from behind that fan as if his words are draining all of his energy.

"Well, I suppose it's something that has to be taken care of, isn't it?" He blinks and then focuses in on Isshin, switching to curiosity bordering on warning. "Are you sure you want this for him? It could be better the way he is, you know. The Soul Society will know of his presence soon, as well."

Isshin closes his eyes, leaning back with a pained expression painted over his features, eyebrows furrowed and stitched together, hands clutching in tight fists as he grinds his teeth.

"That's exactly why it must be done." He opens his eyes, expression hardening, determination flashing in his orbs.

"The Soul Society won't get ahold of him as he is now. I won't allow them to destroy him. He's already broken enough."

…..

_Gin. That's the name. _

_Ichigo rolls over, exposing his back to the man, as if it is impossible to look at the silver haired fox. _

_There is a soft, disappointed, hurt sound as the slurping sound of footsteps draws closer to him, stopping right behind his head. _

"_Don' be that way now Ichigo," the man nearly sings the words in mock surprise, "I've only come to see how yer doin'."_

_Ichigo stares at the wall, trailing a new small rivulet of blood as it makes its path down the surface, standing out starkly against the dried blood from the day before. _

_He says nothing, too tired to form a retort. There is a chuckle and then Gin is leaning over him precariously, that ever present smiling face pressing closer, closer, unbearably close. _

_Ichigo slides away, pressing his back against the wall, against the fresh blood, eyes narrowed in something of a scowl as Gin gives a little chuckle, gleefully moving back towards the door. _

"_Now, now, Ichigo. No need to look so serious! It's just a game, afterall. Just gotta learn how ta play it!"_

_Silence. Finally. _

_The darkness closes in around him and he takes a deep breath, battling with the warring anger and fear within him, something planted so very meticulously, so very sneakily, so very thoroughly._

_Sleep comes soon after, then wake. _

_And no one comes. _

_No one comes for a very, very long time, and the blood begins to flake from his skin, rain down from his hair like dandruff, become hard under his feet. _

_In this period of silence, of blissful alone time, he finds himself thinking. _

_He had never known that humans had so much blood. And it came from everywhere, pouring from some places more than others, until a body is completely drained, pale, lifeless. _

_And they were aware as they bled out. People, to Ichigo, have become fascinating. Fascinating creatures that have so much blood, and so much pain. _

_The expressions. So many expressions, each unique to an individual's face. _

_And Ichigo has watched. Will continue to watch. _

_Will continue to learn._

…

_**A/N: **_**If you are confused yet, then I am doing my job. At least, how I want to do my job. **

**Italics in large groups are memories, flashbacks so to speak. **

**When compressed like this, with a present scene, it is letting you see what is in Ichigo's mind as the other's go on around him. **

**Everything will unravel, in its own way. **


	3. Scatter

Mindless

Scatter

_He watches the body being pulled out of the room, a wide streak of blood following the lifeless shell as Grimm, the blue haired devil of a cat, grins viciously at Ichigo while performing his duty of ridding the room of the humans that no longer… exist. _

_That's how Ichigo likes to think of them. Just…ceasing to exist. That is easier to swallow. That is tolerable. _

_He is standing in a corner, like a skittish animal, his tired eyes watching the door as He appears. He nearly sighs in relief. At least when He is there, there is no taunting words from Gin, no leering grins from Grimm. He can feel his shoulders relaxing, his muscles coming slightly unwound. _

_And He is smiling at Ichigo, a small curve of his lips that mirrors the gentle, somewhat kind flicker in his eyes. Ichigo shifts from one bare foot to another, unconsciously rubbing his hands together, the blood soaked appendages slicking together absently. _

_Aizen moves forward, drawing close enough to where when he holds out his open hand towards Ichigo, there is still a foot between his hand and Ichigo's blood soaked form. _

_Ichigo stares at the pale, clean hand, confused. When his eyes flicker back up to Aizen the man widens his smile, just a fraction of a movement, but Ichigo catches it. Ichigo catches everything about Aizen. _

"_You did well. Now, come." _

_The baritone voice vibrates around the room, prickling Ichigo's skin, coaxing his blood soaked mind. He runs his tongue out over his lips, tasting Iron, his hair sticking to his face as he looks down at his own bloody, dirty hands, quietly._

"_I don't mind. You did well."_

_Ichigo looks up again, warring in his mind with the strange things that have begun to surface every time he watches Aizen. He blinks once, twice, and then brings up his right hand, placing it against the cool, clean hand offered to him. _

_When Aizen wraps his hand around Ichigo's own, a stark contrast between white and red that Ichigo can't quite keep his eyes off of, he follows the man as he tugs lightly, leading him away from the blood soaked room, away from the lifeless eyes._

_Away from the no-longer-existing young body being drug down the opposite hallway by a grinning blue haired animal. _

_Out of the fire….. _

_Into a volcano of disaster._

…

Youroichi and Urahara are, for the first time in a very long time, completely baffled.

Deep in the bowels of Urahara's shop, the training room that so much resembles a desert with random mountains and rocks cresting the 'horizon,' they stare. Goading words has not worked, physical pain has not worked, even trying to separate Ichigo's soul from his human body has not worked.

And along the line, they noticed something increasingly disturbing.

They couldn't feel Ichigo's spiritual pressure.

Even in human form, Ichigo always used to emit a rather large spiritual pressure, which is what had Hollows constantly popping up around the boy even in the most random places. But now, there is nothing, and no clue as to what or why this has happened.

And through it all, Ichigo has stood there, taking the hours of poking and prodding and mental twisting with that blank face, eyes devoid of any reaction. He has a few cuts and scrapes, but the larger injuries have already been healed up by Youroichi, and now they are at a loss as to what to do.

"I was almost certain he would respond to a released Zanpakuto." Urahara states, curious expression turned towards Ichigo as he stands off to the side, staring blankly at a large rock. Beside him Youroichi swifts from foot to foot, in her feline form, tail curling into a question mark behind her.

"Perhaps if we call for Rukia, or Renji?"

There is a stretch of considering silence, and then the fan flicks shut, lowering from Urahara's face as his lips press into an uncharacteristic tight thin line. "No, once they know he has returned, it will be near impossible to keep them from breaking every rule in the Soul Society to come and see him, and we can't risk them finding him like…," he trails off, motioning with his closed fan at the boy still standing, staring at the same rock, "Like that."

"Then what do we do?"

Urahara sighs, moving towards the boy… _Man_… he corrects himself, drawing up to him and wrapping his hand around a toned bicep, steering him towards the ladder.

"We wait."

…

_The clothing held out to him makes him stare blankly, his questioning gaze moving to the smiling Aizen who is holding the white fabric out to him, waiting. _

"_You are clean now. You might as well wear clean clothes."_

_He looks down at himself, running an absent hand over his abdomen, where blood no longer is crusted against his flesh, and dirt no longer caked under his nails. He looks up again, from behind lengthening bangs of sunny orange hair, pressing his tongue to the back of his teeth. _

_Then slowly, achingly, tiredly, he takes the smooth white fabric in his own hands, watching Aizen as he slowly gets dressed into the outfit that nearly mirrors Aizen's own. _

"_We are going to be sparring today."_

_Ichigo tips his head in surprise, though no other expression is written on his face as he watches Aizen move around the room, that which Ichigo can only assume is the other man's bedroom, the whiteness of everything nearly too bright, nearly blinding. _

"_We can't let you waste away, after all."_

_Aizen draws closer to him, with that smile curling his lips. Ichigo notes, in a detached fashion, that it is not like the feral one offered by Grimm, nor is it like the sly one offered by Gin. No, Ichigo believes this one to be sincere._

_Aizen lifts his hand up, absently brushing a lock of hair away from Ichigo's eyes, speaking fondly. "It's been a year. One very long year, but now it's time."_

_Ichigo blinks slowly. Has it been a year? He had stopped counting long ago, when he had realized that he slept odd hours, and there were no windows in his little red room. In fact, that doesn't matter, because there is no day and night here. It's a constant, steady flow. _

_Like the flow of blood of the young one. _

_He blinks, watching as Aizen opens the door, looking over his shoulder in a beckoning manner. _

_Ichigo will always watch Aizen. _

…_.._

**If you haven't picked up on what Aizen has been doing in front of Ichigo, and what he has made Ichigo do, then you need to seriously go back and read the first few chapters. It's rather easy to deduce, when you are looking for it. **

**Don't like the plot? That's fine. **

**Just stop reading it. **

**Siiiimple. **


	4. Shatter

Mindless

Shatter

"What the hell? Let me go! _Let me go! _Where is he?" The small black haired female struggles against the strong arms around her, fighting with all her might against Youroichi as she snarls at Urahara whose face is characteristically hidden behind his fan.

"I know he's here! Where is he?"

Urahara sighs softly, eyes flickering to the ceiling in exasperation. In that trained lightly carefree voice he speaks, smiling eyes meeting Rukia's with calm composure.

"Whatever do you mean, Rukia?"

This makes her fly into a rage even more, her legs attempting to kick back at the other woman, failing to even make her flinch.

"I _know _he's here, Urahara!" Her voice has raised a pitch, shrill, desperate. Youroichi and Urahara share a knowing look and her chin dips in a small nod as she lowers Rukia slowly to her feet, unwinding her arms and allowing Rukia to hop a few feet away from her, rage and determination flashing in her eyes.

"Very well. This way, then."

Urahara moves in that lazy way of his towards back of the shop, emerging through the door where a small garden has been nurtured, and sitting on a chair in the middle of it is a form that Rukia knows well and her heart jumps into her throat.

His back is to her, but that wild orange blonde hair is unmistakable. She makes a noise in the back of her throat and ignoring Urahara's warning to wait she dashes forward, sliding around the chair to face him, her wide grin accompanied by an excited and relieved "Ichigo!"

And then her whole world crashes as she stumbles back a few steps away from the form hunched over. She shakes her head slowly, her own misbelieving eyes dragging over a sharp angled face, shaded slightly by too long hair that hangs limp. She places a hand over her own mouth as she notes the void eyes, staring straight through her, familiar brown puddled in disconcerting black.

The color begins to drain from her face and her knees weaken, and no one is there to catch her when she falls to the ground in astonishment, not even registering the pain that arch's up her legs at the collision.

Slowly her hand falls away from her mouth and her throat tightens, but she is just able to choke out the words.

"What's wrong with him?"

She is vaguely aware of Urahara drawing closer and then he is within sight, kneeling down beside Ichigo, staring at her from over the top of his fan, hat tipped down so that she can barely see his shadowed eyes.

"We don't know."

She furrows her brows, feeling her ire rise a bit.

"Why haven't you figured it out?"

"We've tried," comes his somewhat slow reply, his eyes turning towards the male in question before he continues. "He's been unresponsive for a month."

She chokes on whatever rebuttal she had been forming, eyes going impossibly wide.

"He's been here a _month? _But the Soul Society has only known about him for _two days!_ Everyone is an uproar, wondering where he has _been _for the past two years!"

"Raising your voice will not help him recover, Rukia." His soft admonishment makes a bit of color come back to tint her cheeks and she arranges herself in a more comfortable position, hunkering down in a way that shows Urahara that she is not going anywhere until she gets as many answers as she can.

Sighing, he stands, placing Benihime in front of him, leaning on her somewhat in a detached fashion as he begins to recount the seemingly endless days of trying to prod Ichigo into awareness.

…

"_Yu are thinking of them again, Ichigo."_

_Said main looks up from his tea cup, peering into the eyes of the other, gauging the tone of voice he has used. Although his smile is turned up in slight adoration and his body screams that of welcoming, Ichigo can see the undercurrent of something inexplicably wrong under the mask presented for him. _

_As always he chooses not to acknowledge it, pushing it back into that very private part of his mind, storing it away as he stores all information of Aizen away for later contemplation. _

"_I have told you before that I am truly disappointed that it happened that way." Aizen sets his own teacup down, standing in a fluid motion and walking towards Ichigo in that flowing way. _

_Ichigo does not resist when slender fingers wrap under his chin, forcing his face to turn towards Aizen, their eyes to meet. Ichigo's expression is carefully schooled, blank, and Aizen speaks up again in a more tender tone, releasing the edge that had threatened to become razor sharp. _

"_Do you miss them so terribly, Ichigo?"_

_Ichigo watches as the stray lock of brown slides from one brow to the other when Aizen barely tips his head with his question, his hand leaving Ichigo's jaw to flutter down the side of Ichigo's neck and, on cue, Ichigo's skin prickles, a shiver passing through his body, Aizen's being the only contact he has known in a year and a half. That, and blood weeping no-longer-existing's. _

"_You're friends deaths were an unfortunate mistake, Ichigo." The older man tilts back his head in contemplation, then his voice lowers, purring out like a lover's caress, and Ichigo blinks in a show of surprise. That tone is new. _

"_Would you like to avenge them, Ichigo? Would you like to wrap your hands around Ulquiorra's throat, for cutting down Orihime?" Ichigo can feel his muscles tightening at the mention of the shy, wayward female that had begged him with dying eyes. _

_He can feel Aizen's fingers sliding over his shoulder, slowly, trailing a line of icy heat. _

"_Would you like to pierce through Grimmjow's chest, having watched him tear out your human friends heart?"_

_Ichigo flinches, just barely, a movement caught only because Aizen's fingers are trailing down, over his chest, sliding towards his heart. Chad, he sees in his mind's eye, telling Ichigo to run. _

_Aizen's lips are right by his ear now, whispering those cruel words, words that snake down to Ichigo's aching heart and squeeze tightly. _

"_Yammy, who sliced off the head of the Quincy?" _

_Ichigo suddenly finds it quite hard to breath, his heart hammering against his ribcage in painful shutters, as if trying to leap out from behind his bones into the hand pressed against his chest. _

_Aizen's lips brush against the lobe of his ear, his voice dipping into a seductive drawl, free hand moving up to curl into the long locks at the base of Ichigo's neck, though Ichigo does not even notice as his vision begins to fade at the edges. _

"_Would you like to shred Stark to pieces," Here he pauses, for dramatic effect, as his hand fists into Ichigo's robe, "For doing the same to Rukia Kuchiki?"_

_With a cry, Ichigo wrenches himself backwards, away from Aizen, and the other man lets him tumble to the floor, painfully colliding with the floor and the back of the chair, his head snapping against the hard surface and causing a blinding white light to bloom behind his eyes. _

_And then there is a weight over him, settling down over his hips, hands pressing against his biceps as a chest rests against his own. _

_When his vision clears he blinks a few times to register this new development. Straddling him is Aizen, eyes gleaming with a hot fever, his lips pulled into a slightly leering smile. _

"_I can give them to you, Ichigo." The words are still that sensual, husky purr, beckoning to Ichigo's torn heart, his bleeding heart, his delicately healing mind. In the back of his mind he pictures Aizen's face, blood dripping from his temples, streaming down his cheeks and falling in his eyes; pooling on his lips as his gaze is that of horror. _

_Then he blinks, and the Aizen he does not know, the one whose face reflects that of lust, is before him again, and his own eyes are questioning, are confused. _

_Aizen smiles wider, his grip loosening on Ichigo's arms as he leans down, close enough to when he speaks, his lips brush against Ichigo's own in triumph. _

"_I can give them to you," a tongue smooth's out over Ichigo's lower lip and his mouth immediately opens, "If you give yourself completely to me." _

_And then Ichigo's mouth is being devoured, a skilled tongue caressing each and every spot inside of his mouth, tasting him and relishing in it. _

_Ichigo notes, as his tongue sluggishly begins to respond, that Aizen tastes like licorice. _

…

**Hopefully you are all enjoying the new twist, and the start of the more… mature themes. **


	5. Splinter

**Tch. I guess I **_**should **_**do this, but it's not like everyone doesn't already **_**know. **_**I do not own Bleach, nor do I claim to own any characters from the series that are used here. **_**I've tried **_**to hijack the rights, but that landed me in a very cold, very lonely metal cage suspended above fiery pits of Hell, so I really don't recommend doing the same. So yeah. There's your friggin' disclaimer. **

Mindless

Splinter

"_You don't want it bad enough yet, Ichigo."_

_Aizen watches the man as he engages his training partner, the silent and blind Tosen, in weaponless sparring, the long orange blonde hair sticking to his sweaty face. _

_There is no answer, no noise, as Ichigo lashes out and the black man sidesteps the attack in which Ichigo immediately swerves to face him once more with calm eyes calculating the way Tosen moves. _

"_Don't you want your revenge, Ichigo?"_

_The young man's breath hitches, ever so slightly, and he and Tosen begin again in that dance as old as time itself, both filled with the intent to kill. _

_There is a moment where they cannot be seen, flickering about so quickly that if Aizen was any less of a being he probably wouldn't have caught the movement, and then Ichigo is suddenly standing over a downed Tosen, one hand pressed against the back of the man's head while the other hand is firmly on the man's chin as if preparing to snap his neck._

_A slow clapping is heard and Ichigo blinks, drawing up and away from the man, turning to move back towards Aizen whose hands are doing a soft approval. His lips are curled upwards, just barely, and his eyes flick to Tosen to silently tell the man to leave and Ichigo doesn't even notice when suddenly he and Aizen are alone. _

_His breathing is heavy, chest rising and falling rapidly, sweat rolling down his unclothed chest and sharp angled face._

"_You are much stronger now, Ichigo."_

_Always repeating his name. But Ichigo's flat eyes meet Aizen's silently, watching, waiting. Aizen reaches up to brush the pad of his thumb against Ichigo's lower lip, pulling away as Ichigo seems about to take a step closer._

"_You don't want your revenge bad enough yet. Therefore, you cannot have it."_

_And Aizen turns, moving back towards the large white castle and Ichigo follows, clenching and unclenching his fists in the first stirrings of irritation. _

….

Rukia looks as if she might be sick. She stands in the front part of Urahara's shop, Youroichi on her left, the man himself on her right, and a whole lot of trouble in front of her.

True to his order following way, a stony faced Byakuya stares at them from the doorway, silent, imposing. As far as Rukia can tell he is flanked by two others who, Rukia notes with a pang of horror, look as determined and cold as her brother.

Sui-Feng, with her brooding eyes, stares at them with something strange swimming across her features, her gaze refusing to meet the cat at their side as if by not looking she does not have to admit the fact that the other woman is there.

Hitsugaya, short and yet still very dangerous looking, is also there, his blue eyes staring through them rather than at them, willing himself to be anywhere than this, to be doing anything other than this.

Urahara breaks the silence, that carefree and humor filled voice making Rukia cringe. "Mah, what do we have here? Three Captains coming to visit us in the Human world? We are honored!"

Byakuya's bland gaze trails to Rukia, and she meets it with a pleading look of her own, barely shaking her head, urging him to leave, to leave behind what she knows he is here for.

"We are here for the Substitute Shinigami, Kurosaki Ichigo." It's Sui-Feng's voice that answers Urahara, and Byakuya breaks his silent conversation with his eyes snapping away from Rukia to level on the blonde haired man who hides his face behind that irritating fan.

"Show us where he is," he intones, confirming their reasons for being there, not allowing any room for argument.

"Brother, please. You don't understand what-" she is silenced by Urahara snapping his fan shut and standing from his lounging position on the floor, that sarcastically charming smile slipping over his features.

"Ah yes, _that. _I was wondering when you would be coming for him." His cheerful voice hides his anger, hides his frustration. He points the closed fan at them, closing his eyes for a moment in his smiling way. "Please, wait here. I will bring him right out."

There is silence again as the remaining five individuals blink at each other, not quite knowing what to say. Rukia edges closer to her brother, biting on her lower lip, brows furrowed in worry. "Brother, you really need to listen. Ichigo's not-"

Rukia, as seems to be the norm, is cut off again when Urahara enters with a shuffle, the Ichigo that she doesn't know, doesn't recognize, at his side.

Byakuya's eyes narrow, but he does not move. Hitsugaya's hand unconsciously moves to the hilt of his Zanpakuto, and Sui-Feng's body visibly tenses. Rukia freezes, her eyes looking towards that pale blank face, those eyes floating in darkness, that shaggy hair falling in disarray.

Instead of asking questions, instead of gaping like Sui-Feng and Histugaya, Byakuya turns to move out of the shop. "Bring him. We will open a gate."

"Urahara, you can't really be letting them take Ichigo!"

Rukia waves her arms in the air, frantically, her voice nearly breaking in her fright.

"They will end up killing him!" She watches as Urahara steers Ichigo towards the door, the latter male allowing it to happen in that placid way. "Ah, I wonder," is all the words he offers her, that smile stuck on his lips as they disappear out of the shop.

Rukia stands frozen in place, remembering the strong willed boy who had rushed headstrong into the Soul Society to rescue her, throwing all of the rules to the wind, and she draws her Zanpakuto, glancing to the cat now licking it's paw, and dashes out the door intent on raising her sword against three Captains to fight for Ichigo.

…..

_Ichigo stands outside of the shower, the water rolling down his body, dripping in a steady rhythm against the white floor beneath him. His eyes stare at the puddle of water forming beneath him, unconcerned with the mess, his thoughts warring inside of him._

_Revenge. _

_That is what he wants, isn't it? Revenge for his closest friends being slaughtered in front of him when he was being held down by Gin, the tip of a sword against the base of his throat. _

_What would it feel like? What would it taste like?_

_He turns to pick up a towel, the color white like everything else that surrounds him, and the softness of him makes him run it through his hands, relishing the feeling. Sensitivity to the texture of things has come from not being touched for so long. He realized this whenever he first took Aizen's hand and let him lead him from the room that creates the no-longer-existing's. _

_He raises the white towel, running it over his chest, noting the new welts and cuts that hadn't stung when he had been in the shower. They overlap the old ones, all of them ranging from slender strips to deep white cords in which some Ichigo does not even remember getting. _

_That's not an issue. At least not any more. There was a time when such things would bother Ichigo, would worry him until he got answers, but answers he has found are overrated. All they offered were pain and more confusion. _

_The towel drapes lower, sliding down his legs as he bends._

_What is it that Aizen is expecting him to do to prove he wants to take his revenge against the Espada who had destroyed his world?_

_He knows, somewhere in the back of his mind, that he should be blaming Aizen for everything, but he can't seem to. Aizen had not been present during the assault, and even though the Espada and Gin had only acted on Aizen's orders by attacking Karakura town to rid it of the Soul Reapers that had been guarding it, he just can't place the blame on the man's shoulders. _

_He drapes the towel over the sink after drying his back, those sad haunted eyes meeting his reflection in the mirror as he braces his hands against the sink, wet hair still clinging to his face. _

_He makes a sound of disgust, shaking his head. Sadness. What would such an emotion do for him? Nothing. Nothing at all. And it wouldn't bring his friends back. It wouldn't lessen the yawning hole forming in his chest where his heart has slowly eroded away, leaving the shell of a man that he used to be. _

_He isn't overly surprised that a blank anger has begun to overtake every other emotion. In fact, the more that Aizen rationalized that anger is what he needed to fuel himself, what he needed to move on, the more Ichigo embraced the emotion, regardless of what he knows is right and wrong. _

_He closes his eyes, taking in a deep breath and exhaling it through his nose, ridding himself of all emotions as he steels himself to get dressed. _

_The thought of Aizen straddling his hips and placing a hungry, almost angry kiss on his lips makes him pause and blink in a moment of revelation, his head tilting to the side as his eyebrows hitch up somewhat in an arch. _

_Is that what Aizen is waiting for?_

_He drops the clothes to the floor, his naked body a roll of toned muscles as he exits Aizen's bathroom, the steam from the shower curling out behind him as Aizen turns away from the window that he had been staring out of to look at Ichigo in a slight show of surprise at his bareness. _

_Ichigo feels himself moving, though he does not have to will his body to do so, and then he is in front of Aizen, the other man's back pressing somewhat to the window, an unreadable expression in those brown eyes as he meets Ichigo's gaze. _

_Ichigo makes no noise, says no words, but reaches out to brace himself with one palm against the window, over Aizen's shoulder, and leans in nipping at Aizen's lower lip before mimicking the kiss that Aizen had claimed him with, tongue slipping past parted lips to run along Aizen's own._

…_.._

**Reviews are welcome. Though I haven't gotten many, the hits on this story are getting higher and higher, so I really hope everyone is enjoying this strange story of mine. I can't get it out of my head, and it is interfering with me completing Order and Chaos, so the sooner I can churn this twisted tale out, the sooner I get back to yummy Naru/Sasu action. **


	6. Sever

**Warning: Lemony man sex. Don't like? Then why are you even still reading this story? Ach, people. **

Mindless

Sever

_His back slams against a wall and he arches against the pain, gasping in a deep breath, the action ending in a hiss as nimble fingers wrap around his throat, slightly cutting off his airway but not enough to be considered actual choking. _

_His burning eyes meet the brown of Aizen's own, and he feels heat coiling in his abdomen, flooding his veins like searing lava. He grinds his teeth together and presses against the pressure at his neck to lean his head forward, hungrily brushing his lips over the smooth jawbone offered to him, teeth nipping at the juncture of his neck. _

_There is a throaty rumble, one that can be considered a laugh, and Aizen's free hand moves to swipe over Ichigo's naked chest, fingertips skillfully dipping down to fondle at Ichigo's nipples, tugging on them a bit sharply and making him hiss once more. _

_Ichigo squeezes his eyes shut, but as soon as he does so, his right leg is being hitched up, pulled to drape over Aizen's hip, balancing him precariously on one foot. Hot breath fans across his face as Aizen claims his lips once more, wet kisses claiming them both in a spiraling detonation. _

_Ichigo gasps for breath once more as Aizen's clothed hips press against his own, the hardness growing between the older man's legs quite noticeable, and a heady blush spreads over Ichigo's cheeks and down his neck._

…

None of them had been prepared, which is probably why Rukia's sudden actions worked.

Standing with the unresponsive Ichigo behind her with Sui-Feng, Hisugaya, and her brother facing her off, is not something she ever could have imagined. Urahara stands off to her right, lounging against the wall of his shop, expression hidden by the shadow of his hat and the fan spread in front of his jaw.

"Do you understand what you are doing?"

She tries not to flinch at the tone in her brother's voice, refusing to fully meet his blank gaze. She tightens the grip on her Zanpakuto's hilt, hoping that her face is set into a determined mask, hoping that her words feel as steady as she needs them to be.

"Ichigo has done nothing wrong, Brother. Why does the Soul Society need to bring him in? It's not as if he is a criminal. He is only a Substitute Soul Reaper. He does not abide by our laws."

There is an eerie silence as Sui-Feng narrows her eyes, tensing, readying herself for a fight. Byakuya holds out an arm in front of her, gazing steadily at Rukia with that unreadable face, Hitsugaya sighing silently as he lets his eyes roam towards the inconspicuous shop keeper who is helping neither side.

"Captain Yamamota has given the order to bring him back to the Soul Society." Something in Byakuya's voice tilts towards a question, showing Rukia that Ichigo really had gotten through to him in his Rescue of her from her death sentence.

She relaxes her grip just the slightest bit, a sliver of hope curling into her words.

"We just need a little more time. Please, Brother. You see how he is."

Silence, again, and then Byakuya opens his mouth to say something, though whatever it is he had been ready to say is lost as everything that they had known, everything that they thought they know, comes crashing down.

….

"_You are truly mine, Ichigo."_

_The words are a husky whisper and the orange haired male spares a glance over his shoulder, the side of his face pressing into the floor, Aizen's hand keeping the pressure applied so that his head cannot move. _

_Suddenly there is something pressing against Ichigo, applying uncomfortable pressure, sliding into his hole in slow motion, though that does not decrease the ferocious agony that erupts through his body as just the tip of Aizen's lubricated member breaches him. _

_He sucks in a large amount of air, eyes screwing shut, eyebrows furrowing in pain. There is a pause, as if the other male understands how much pain this is causing the virgin male, and then Aizen gives in, unable to control him-self any longer. _

_His free hand wraps around Ichigo's hip bone even as he thrusts forward, violently, burying himself to his hilt as he grits his teeth and smiles that vicious smile, letting out a deep guttural grunt at the tightness provided to him._

_Ichigo does not cry out as those normally would. Instead he bites down on his lip, harshly, drawing blood, his breaths coming out in pants as Aizen begins to move, long strong strokes that have no tenderness, no care. _

_The hand fisted in Ichigo's hair lets go to reposition itself on Ichigo's other hip and as easily as this is done, so does his pace increase. The pressure, the pain, the pleasure of Aizen's member striking against his prostate; it is almost too much for the orange blonde to handle, his face flushed. _

_He tosses his head back, a soundless cry formed on his open lips as Aizen continues to thrust into him with that animalistic luster, sweat trickling down both of their bodies in tune with the slick, wet sound of Aizen slapping into Ichigo. _

_Aizen pounds into him ruthlessly, savagely, ignoring or not quite seeing the blood that has begun to streak his hardened manhood, the trembling slender body beneath him writhing in a mixture of severe pain and overwhelming pleasure. _

_He leans over, chest meeting Ichigo's back as he continues his ministrations, his whispered words husky in Ichigo's ear, tongue flicking out to take the lobe for a harsh nibble between his teeth. _

"_You feel good."_

_One hand leaves Ichigo's hip to slide up to his shoulder where the hand clamps down and proceeds to make the thrusts more devastating by pulling Ichigo's body towards him. _

_Ichigo is suspended between that excruciating pain and the indescribable pleasure being offered to him, drowning in the luxury of lust, of passion, of sex. So therefore he is quite surprised at the familiar voice that slurs out to him in his thoughts, taunting, but understanding. _

"_**It's time, my King."**_

_His eyes snap wide as Aizen burns the back of his neck with an open mouthed kiss, his abdomen igniting with a new kind of fire, his skin flushed and welcoming. _

_Aizen smiles, jerking his chin around so that they can kiss again, seemingly a favorite thing for the chocolate haired other man. _

"_**King, wa…. or die."**_

_He can feel the small trail of saliva that has slipped from his open mouth to trail down his jaw in a shamefully erotic way. He closes his eyes, loosely, allowing himself to feel every skilled stroke that Aizen offers him. _

_Hesitantly he draws his hand up to wrap around his already straining erection, squeezing at the base, willing it to die away._

_When this only seems to encourage Aizen to give deeper, more devious thrusts, Ichigo bows his head and gasps through that open mouth, eyes threatening to roll back into his skull. He tightens his fingers more on his member._

"_Let go, my Ichigo," Aizen whispers in his ear. _

"_**Let go, King."**_

_Ichigo clenches his fist, refusing, refusing, stalling the inevitable. He shakes his head in that silent way now accompanied by gasping breaths and a flushed face. _

_Then Aizen is reaching around his hips, despite Ichigo's frantic denial by the shaking of his head, wrapping his own fingers around Ichigo's member, stroking it in time to each and every thrust given by his own hips. _

_And Ichigo finds himself teetering, stumbling, falling over the edge of the cliff he has been avoiding for a long time, the white hot heat bursting from his groin and into Aizen's hand, dripping over his own thighs as he shudders, crying out a very hoarse, very loud, "Aizen!"_

_It's the first he has spoken in two years. _

"_**Way to go, King-o. Now it begins…."**_

…

Soooo. First lemony goodness. Note: If you thought their sex was going to come around because of some ground breaking realization that Aizen is some good guy, some mush of a man who like flowers and chocolate and long walks in the park and loving other people, then I am sorry. :) Cause my Aizen is a devious, devilishly handsome man who just knows what he wants.


	7. Snap

**Now, lookit. A warning, alright? More lemony goodness, and slight (Or major, depending on what each reader's outlook on Ichigo and Aizen is) OOCness. Deal with it. Kthanx. **

Mindless

Snap

_Ichigo battles with the presence of the other in his mind, so close, so tangible that if he closes his eyes and allows himself to drift, he finds himself facing off with it. _

_And Ichigo does not want that. Ichigo wants nothing to do with the Hollow side of himself that purrs and crows and urges him to go to Aizen. _

_Not that he has a problem with Aizen. _

_But still, a week after he has given his body to Aizen, he is still refusing his revenge. For no apparent reason Aizen continues to deny him, to elusively evade the conversation every time Ichigo tries to bring the subject up. _

_Ichigo, in turn, has begun to feel the rage building, threatening to spill. _

_He moves quietly through the white fortress, ghosting the halls, slipping past many Arrancar and Espada without them being aware of his presence. _

_Searching, even though he knows where Aizen is without having to do so. He can feel where the man is. _

_The doors to the throne room open easily with a push of his hand, legs carrying him deftly into the hall where he sticks to the walls, watching the man who is sprawled out on the dias in a rather lazy looking way._

_Ulquiorra stands before him, intoning something that Ichigo does not care to hear, so he does not bother to listen. _

"_**King…"**_

_Just in time, the mocking voice slips through his mind in a whisper, and he tries to ignore it. He stops, in the shadows, eyes following Ulquiorra as he moves away from the center of the room to take his designated place to the side, and Aizen's lips curl into a pleased smile._

"_Then everything is going as planned. That is very good to hear."_

"_**Give in. Give in."**_

_The gleeful taunting makes Ichigo's eyes narrow, and he twitches as Stark emerges from the ranks to also speak to Aizen, though his voice is low so that even if Ichigo wants to listen, he cannot. His fists clench unconsciously, and that voice, so happy, so conniving, slurs out in a way that makes Ichigo actually listen. _

"_**He asked for all of you, King…"**_

_The words trail off, and Ichigo swerves his gaze towards Aizen once more, watching as the man leans his chin against his fist, elbow planted against the arm of the 'throne,' level gaze studying Stark with all the understanding of a lion hunting its prey through a veiled expression. _

_All of him? _

_His gaze returns to moving around the room, taking in all of the Espada within, the way they watch Aizen with a mixture of admiration, fear, and hostility. What is it that Aizen is wanting from him?_

"_**You're an idiot."**_

_The voice fades away, though he can feel the presence there, urging him towards the throne even as he continues to ignore the coiling in his chest, the tightening of his ribcage against his heart. His breathing is a bit painful when he takes a deep inhalation of air, throat dry when he swallows. _

_All of him…_

_He blinks, slowly, as is his new habit of doing when something in his mind clicks into place, and before he can stop himself he is striding forward, cutting Stark off in the middle of his report, all eyes turning to follow his unpresedented approach of the throne, and the man that sits in it. _

_A hushed silence falls, disbelieving stares only spurring his actions, his mind having finally registered that when Aizen had said 'all of him,' he hadn't meant just his body._

_No. Aizen wants his body, his loyalty, his obedience to a point, and overall…_

_Overall, Aizen wants what is left of his pride. _

_A snicker is heard in the back of his mind from that other half that nearly teems with immeasurable, sadistic pleasure as he mounts the steps, two at a time, hands making quick work of the fabric encasing his upper half, discarding it as he goes. _

_He can feel it, the shame trying to rise up as his body is exposed to the room when he allows the pants to fall as well, stark naked once more in front of Aizen, but this time with the eyes of the Espada baring into his back, burning him with their surprise and shock. _

_If Aizen himself shares the same emotions as his followers he does not reveal them, that hooded gaze slipping down Ichigo's form, before trailing back up to allow their gazes to meet, fist falling away from his chin so that his hand can rest on the arm of the throne. _

_Ichigo's voice, hoarse and gruff from silence, growls out for all to hear, the words echoing off of the walls, and if Ichigo had never felt disgrace before, if he had never learned of humiliation in the red room that makes no-longer-existing souls, then he would flinch. _

"_I give all to you."_

_He steps up to the man and in a graceful motion that has a collective nearly inaudible gasp rolling through the occupants of the hall he is upon him, knees digging into Aizen's thighs, right hand dipping down to dip into Aizen's pants and draw out the newly wakening member in a comfortable position for the older man as his own eyes burn into his. _

_Quieter, just for Aizen, his words husky even to his own ears though he isn't quite sure why, he speaks. "All of me, here, in front of your kingdom."_

_Aizen keeps his hands on the armrests, keeps that placid look on his face. He does not move a muscle, though when Ichigo's fingers stroke at his member it twitches with more life, hardening with the attention being paid to it. _

_Ichigo does not need any more encouragement than that, nor does he need any more confirmation that he is indeed correct as to what Aizen has been waiting for. _

…

The four Adjuchas step out from the rip in reality so suddenly that for a moment none of the Soul Reapers move.

Byakuya is the first to recover, directing Hitsugaya towards one, while commanding Sui-Feng to go after the other, the other two left for he and Rukia to dispatch. There is a moment where she hesitates, looking back at the seemingly helpless appearing Ichigo, Urahara standing a bit off to the side still but showing no signs of concern for anything that is happening.

_But he is safe, as long as we defeat the Hollows._

And then she too is off, aiming for the remaining Hollow with all of her frustration and anguish over Ichigo pouring into her attacks, which in the end makes pretty quick work.

If only all things were so simple.

She darts her gaze to Byakuya who has also cut his opponent down, as well as Hitsugaya, with Sui-Feng not far behind. They regroup in the air, regarding each other coldly although their eyes do a quick once over for any injuries.

"Four Adjuchas."

The statement is half posed as a question by Hitsugaya, and Byakuya turns his head just the slightest bit to gaze at the other young looking man sidelong, the uneasy quiet stretching between them.

Suddenly, Rukia gets the overwhelming urge to _look down, _and what she sees nearly makes her heart wrench right out of her chest.

Standing maybe twenty feet away from Ichigo's turned back is Aizen, stony faced, narrow eyed gaze focused in on the orange haired male as if all of his ire is directed towards him.

…_.._

_Ichigo ignores the others in the room. That is the only way that he is able to do what he is doing, though the humility he feels slowly begins to dissipate as his actions take up his attention. _

_Aizen is standing tight and ready, though still he has not moved. _

_He and Ichigo stare at each other, both of their expression unreadable as Ichigo bends his body in a way that has him able to take Aizen in his mouth. He fights back the embarrassed blush that threatens, easily beating it away with thoughts of how Aizen tastes instead of thoughts of the Espada watching their encounter. _

_His tongue wraps around the head of Aizen's member, followed closely by his lips as he gives a little suck that has the brown haired male giving the first indication of pleasure, a small jerk of his hips that only Ichigo is able to catch since he is on the male's lap. _

_His ministrations continue, each moment his mouth sliding wetly down Aizen's length little by little, his mouth watering with the contact of such a large foreign object invading his mouth. Ichigo finds, however, that he does not mind the feel of his jaw getting a bit sore, nor does he mind the way that every time he tries to take in too much of the older man that his back gives a bit of a spasm in reaction to his gag reflex. _

_When he is convinced that he is ready, that Aizen's member is slick enough to not cause him too much pain, he lifts his mouth off of him with a small pop, running his tongue out over his lips as he scoots back up on Aizen's thighs, fisting one hand in the front of the man's hakama, while the other steadies his member so that when Ichigo lowers himself, the head easily breaches the tight circle of muscles still slightly sore from their first romp. _

_Aizen lets out a deep breath, his hooded eyes narrowing a bit more as his chin dips towards his chest, his hands tightening against the ends of the armrests, as if keeping himself from reaching out to touch Ichigo as the male lowers himself completely onto Aizen with a pant, lips parted in the effort. _

_He does not allow himself to adjust, does not allow himself to stop and think, before he hooks his ankles on the inside of Aizen's knees, using the muscles in his own thighs to raise himself back up before falling down once more, quickly throwing himself into a rough, fast rhythm that brings both his hands up to grab at Aizen's shoulders at the same moment that Aizen's hands fall to take up a bruising grip on Ichigo's hips._

_All composure disintegrating fast, the older man lets that feral grin spread out over his lips, pearly whites flashing in victory as he joins Ichigo's thrusts by jerking his hips down when they are supposed to go down, exuding more force, to where Ichigo hisses in pain, the spit obviously not being good enough and yet it does not seem to bother Aizen at all. _

_In fact, the little noises that eventually begin to escape Ichigo's throat seem to spur him further, as does every little hint of pain, destruction, and torment seems to. _

_..PP.._

_Gin watches from a corner of the throne room, undetected, as always. One hand is against the wall nearest to him, hand pressing so hard against the stone that his knuckles are beginning to turn white, the feeling fading from his fingers. _

_His pale face is split in a wicked smile, one of those rare ones that actually shows his teeth, his eyes in an impossibly high arched upside down 'U.' _

_Ichigo's back arches as Aizen's hands meet his hips, drawing him down more forcefully, more savagely. The boy's hands are pressed against Hueco Mundo's King's chest as his head tilts backwards, face turning up to the ceiling, eyes closing as he gasps for breath. _

_Gin tears his eyes away momentarily to see that, indeed, the Espada are entranced with what is happening, most unsure of exactly what is going on but enthralled in disgusted fascination so great that they cannot seem to look away. _

_So he, too, looks back to watch as something in the boy seems to slowly begin to unwind, his muscles tightening all over as his gait becomes more fanatic, the erotic way that he continues to arch causing Gin's own member to twitch, even though he is most decisively not into the same sex, as Aizen seems to be. _

_The boys fists take in a great deal of fabric at Aizen's shoulders, and he watches as their Lord, their master, looks up at the face still turned towards the ceiling, and Gin mimics this scruitiny, finding quickly what has averted Aizen's attention. _

_Where lips had been parted in a silent cry, they now have begun to curl into a wicked, devilish smile. A quick flick of his tongue brings the tip out to run over the line of his top teeth before retreating inside of his mouth once more. _

_A strange, pleased sound begins to rise in the room and dies off just as quickly in a sigh, sweat trickling down the boy's spine, and with that simple exhale of breath, Gin watches a slender stream of steam curl out of his mouth to dissipate into the air. _

_Then eyes snap open and there is a silent burst as suddenly the room is drowned in spiritual pressure as tendrils of riatsu begin to curl out from the boy and dance in a slithering way, as if snakes of energy are coiling out from his body._

_Gin, however, is focused on the eyes. They are magnificently hard to miss, a ring of vibrant yellow hovering in a black abyss. This Ichigo, with that dangerous smile stretching his lips, and strange eyes, looks down to Aizen, that steady beat between them never failing, never pausing, as Aizen's own spiritual pressure rises to meet the challenge, bringing most of the Espada to their knees. _

_They seem to exchange a few brief words, words that have Aizen's smug grin widening if possible, and then there is a crack as Ichigo's body spasms, a cry wrenching from his throat that is something Gin never would have imagined, and he goes limp in Aizen's lap after a few more rocking motions, and Gin can tell by Aizen's face that he, too, has released himself deep within the other man. _

_Silence spreads over Las Noches as both powerful pressure immediately seem to disappear, though Gin raises his eyes in time to see Aizen's composed, sly gaze meet his own from across the room. _

…_.._

_**Like, don't like, it matters not to me. Though, I rather had fun typing up this chapter, believe it or not. Yippie for public sex! **_


	8. Splatter READ WARNING

_**EPIC WARNING! SLIGHTLY GRUESOME, HIGHLY DEMENTED CONTENT! IF EASILY OFFENDED, DISGUSTED, OR OTHERWISE WEAKMINDED, PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE DO NOT READ!**_

**Spica: Thank you for your awesome review. You rock. Really. In fact, these next few chapters I shall dedicate to you. Hope you like them and all. **

Mindless

Splatter

_True to his twisted ways, Aizen is enjoying himself. Far, far more than he should be, and for reasons that normal people would consider sick. _

_But, Aizen Sosuke has never been normal. _

_The gleam in his eye is cruel, and bright to an almost feverish point as the body bent before him squirms in his grip, inviting him in a very provocative way to do things that he knows will leave him sated and with a smile. _

_It's a beautiful, horribly beautiful sight. _

_The lithe, muscular body beneath him is Kurosaki Ichigo and Aizen has never been more aroused in the hundreds of years that he has breathed. _

_Wild orange blonde hair is tussled, sticking out in every direction while still streaked with drying blood. His face is twisted into a strange grin, his savage eyes of brown and black roll to look over his shoulder at Aizen. What makes Aizen want to take him as he is, naked and bent over his throne, is the smears of blood tracking the boy's body, a testament to his victory at revenge. _

_And so, naturally, Aizen gives into those erotic whims, as he always has and always will. _

_Delving into his own distorted sense of satisfaction and arousal he runs his hand down Ichigo's spine, his own palm smoothing a trail through Ulquiorra's blood. Or Grimmjows?_

_Perhaps even Yammy's, or Stark's. His lips curl into a sadistic smile as his brings up his palm to look at it, reveling in the warmth of the still fresh life's essence. _

_Or maybe it's all four, mixed together?_

_He has to hold back his half mad chuckle as he lowers his hand to Ichigo's rectum, being unusually gentle as he begins to slip one finger, then two inside of the writhing body, enjoying the hiss of pleasure that slides from the blonde's lips. _

_After a few expert strokes with his fingers the boy beneath him is nearly keening in suppressed desire, his knuckles white as he clutches at the armrests, and Aizen can no longer see the pleasure in teasing him, in readying him. _

_So Aizen removes those fingers, his GrimmUlquiYamStark streaked digits also ghosting over his own erection, before he is thrusting angrily, hungrily into Ichigo, the male responding with a throaty moan as he desperately flings himself backwards to impale his body on Aizen's painfully erect member. _

_Oh, yes._

_Never speaking of it does not mean that stars do not burst behind Aizen's eyes every time he embeds himself into Ichigo, just as they do this time, and with no one around to bare witness of his temporary loss of control he grips at Ichigo's hips with a gasping laugh, thrusting so hard that the sound of his sac slapping against Ichigo's own skin rings out in a loud report._

_Then he is hammering into him quickly, harshly, small grunts making their way from the back of his throat as the blonde beneath him gasps out his pleasure, eyes rolling just before they squeeze shut, teeth bared in a repressive smile, as if trying to keep from crying out._

_And Aizen can't have that. _

_He leans his weight against Ichigo, one hand remaining on his hip while the other, the one bloodied with four of his top Espada, moves under Ichigo's arm to move up and curl around the boy's throat, fingers digging into the flesh as he cuts off his airway. _

_The effect is instantaneous. _

_Ichigo's body spasms and his eyes snap open as he tries to breathe in and finds he can't, what's left of his air leaving him in a whoosh. He makes small choking noises, frantically struggling, and Aizen grins more, that sick pleasure growing within him, pooling deep in his abdomen._

_He brings himself up a bit, angles his hips, and when he legs Ichigo's throat go he thrusts in strong, deep, and just rough enough to hit the right spot. Ichigo's breath immediately is consumed by the deep, throaty cry that escapes his body, wrenching from down within his chest. _

_Aizen catches the upper half of his body as he nearly crumbles against the throne, and the tightening of Ichigo's muscles around Aizen's member tells him that the boy, no matter his initial refusal of Aizen's more sadistic nature, is already soon to letting himself ejaculate. _

_The brown haired man is thrilled, tendrils of his hair falling down over his forehead, reminiscent of his days in the Soul Society. But that is where the similarities end, because his mouth is opened in heavy pants, his tongue continuously running out over his own lips, his eyes wide. _

_It does not take long under Aizen's practiced movements before Ichigo's sperm spills out over the seat of the throne, with Aizen erupting inside of him soon after, only then letting the boy fall clumsily and quite painfully against the throne, allowing himself to slip from him as he takes a step back, chest heaving as he eyes his work of art._

_Ichigo's own panting body is slicked with blood and sweat, both from his fighting and from their excited little frenzy, and he does not bother trying to make himself comfortable slumped over the mighty chair. His head lays sideways, cheek pressed against the corner of the back of the throne, his hipbones digging into the front with his legs hanging off. His arms are, seemingly, folded beneath him, while his eyes stay half lidded and unfocused. _

_Oh yes, Aizen is very much pleased with this 'work of art.'_

_He turns away from Ichigo, tugging his clothing back on swiftly with one hand, avoiding his bloody hand as if it suddenly displeases him. There is a smile in his voice as he speaks softly, causing Ichigo to lazily pick his head up and gaze at the man's back._

"_I am pleased, Ichigo."_

_He pauses, running his hand back through his curly brown locks, peering over his shoulder from the corner of his eye._

"_We shall destroy Karakura Town and I will rule the Soul Society… with you as my second."_

_It has taken a little over two years but finally, finally Aizen has created his masterpiece. _

…..

Had to get that bit of information out, sorry I'm not posting more than one chapter at a time on this go round, but I promise I will update soon. Those of you who enjoyed this little lemony goodness, I'm glad. Those of you who didn't, well, that's ok too, because I knew how controversial this chapter could be to some. But hey, Aizen seems like the kinda guy who would be into a bit of bloodplay.


	9. Stagger

**Let me first say… the few reviews that I got for the last chapter are, without a doubt, the most inspiring I have had in quite a while and, interestingly enough, one person reading my story has already started to calculate things in her (or possible his) mind, and that makes me extremely, extremely excited. Why? Well, because now I know that my story is working, that it is starting to do what I originally intended it to do. So, enjoy, and thank you. **

Mindless

Stagger

Rukia wants to believe that her frantic, emotional calling of his name is what makes Ichigo react. She wants to believe that when he tilts his head and slowly begins to turn around, that her desperate warning reached past his blank façade. She wants to believe that he is not lost.

But her world, unfortunately, does not revolve around what she wants.

For she had seen Aizen's lips moving, words too quiet for her to hear, a moment before she had called out to him and now watches in horror as the Ichigo she does not really know turns to face the Soul Societies most dangerous enemy, her most dangerous enemy.

Aizen's eyes are still narrowed, his posture screaming rage, though his face is otherwise calm, that small unnerving smile stretching his lips in an upward curl. She does not think as she launches herself towards the ground, trying so very hard to get to Ichigo, to protect him from the monster that stands so close, too close, for Rukia's liking, even though they are feet apart.

She lands in a crouch with Hitsugaya close on her heels, Byakuya and Sui-Feng just behind him. Rukia stands up and takes a step towards the orange haired male's back, her eyes just clear enough to peer at Aizen over Ichigo's shoulder, even as she reaches out as if to touch him.

…..

Hitsugaya does not like the current situation. Not at all.

Really, it is times like these that the ice wielder wishes he was a bit more dull. Logic, and great deducing skills, can be quite the bother. He narrows his eyes, face otherwise carefully blank, as he assesses the situation from the sky.

Aizen, standing a few feet behind Ichigo. Far enough to where the other man would have plenty of time to react to his presence, if in the right mind.

Ichigo, blissfully unaware as he blankly stares at the ground.

Rukia, calling out a warning to Ichigo just a second later than Aizen saying something as well, Rukia speeding towards the ground as Ichigo shows the first sign of life, the first sign of response, by slowly turning around to face their mortal enemy.

He follows, because he must, and lands silently on the ground behind Rukia, his lips pressed in a thin line as his thoughts finally catch up with his reasoning skills, and as the female Shinigami reaches towards Ichigo, he reaches out for her, a warning on his lips.

….

"What are you doing, Ichigo?"

Aizen's voice is soft, but the warning underlying his words rings as clear as a bell in an open field. He is extremely displeased, and it is clear by the vague sense of annoyance threaded into his tone of voice. Though, that is understandable, considering the circumstances.

He does not acknowledge the Soul Reapers. Not yet. There is no real reason to. His gaze is all for Ichigo who turns, slowly, facing Aizen with a rather blank expression that the older male has come to know as his 'escape' from reality, though it has been a long while since Aizen has seen it.

He is a patient man, though, and waits, his peripheral vision following Rukia as she lands behind Ichigo, reaching out to him, desperation written all over her face. The eyes of the Captain, Hitsugaya, widening as if in sudden epiphany as he darts his hand out towards Rukia, his fingers catching the back of her black uniform, tugging her away from the blonde.

The male Kuchiki and Sui-Feng unmoving, returning his half look with dispassion.

All of this is registered only partially, as most of his attention is focused in on Ichigo, on the boy who is supposed to be his masterpiece. There is a moment where Aizen considers that the male in front of him does not recognize him, but then consciousness begins to seep back into his eyes, lighting the dullness within, his features contorting only somewhat into confusion before quickly smoothing out.

Before the moment can be destroyed, he speaks again, this time with a different question falling from his lips in dissatisfaction.

"You killed Tosen. Why?"

The orange haired man blinks rapidly, as if to clear fog from his mind, and then he opens his mouth to speak, the words causing everyone to pause.

….

_Ichigo moves carefully, undetected through the halls of Las Noches. He does not sneak, because he has no need or reason to, but the ease in which he slides from one hall to the next while shrouded in the shadows is slightly alarming. _

_He rounds one particular corner, still covered in blood with his stained hakama now concealing the majority of his body, to nearly run into someone that he is not expecting, and therefore is not prepared. The blind man seems to look straight at him, and although Ichigo knows it is not quite possible, the feeling is all the same. _

_He backs a step away, inclining his chin to the black man in recognition, though for a while neither of them speak, nor do they move. _

"_Kurosaki…" the man starts, head chin tilting a bit to the left as he continues, "You smell heavily of blood."_

_And then Gin is there, all sly foxy smile and slinking steps, drawing up behind Ichigo, chin pressing down against his left shoulder as his hand moves up to press against his right shoulder. Ichigo does not flinch away, does not react more than the small bat of his eyes in annoyance. _

"_My, my, I-chi-go. How on earth did you get so bloody?" Light words, flirty words, as that sly smile grows a bit, his left hand moving to stroke an index finger down Ichigo's arm, drawing it back to rub it and his thumb together. _

"_Is there something you need, Gin?"_

_Ichigo's voice is steady, dull, and still he does not try and pull away, simply staring deadpan at the black man in front of him who has not reacted to the small encounter yet. _

_A humored tone, one that Ichigo has never quite been able to discern, slips from Gin's lips as he addresses Tosen. _

"_I am looking for a few Espada. I was hoping that you would know where I can find them, Tosen."_

_He purrs out the man's name as his chin rises up off of Ichigo's left shoulder, though his right hand stays on the young's man's right shoulder as he steps around to Ichigo's left side, his arm nearly embracing him._

"_You see, I would ask Ichigo here…" The silver headed man chuckles lightly, a gleefully muffled sound. "But I am afraid he has been rather occupied for the past hour."_

_Ichigo does not react, nor does he offer any helpful words for Gin. If the man wants to think that Ichigo does not know where any Espada are, he can believe it. But Ichigo, yes, he knows where at least four of them are. Drifting like dust in the wind._

_Tosen moves his chin slightly, as if trying to figure out exactly what it is that Gin wants to know. His words are, as always, careful and yet still to the point. "I have just returned from scouting the Human Realm."_

"_Perfect!" Gin chirps up, moving away from Ichigo, dropping his arm back down to his own side, unconcerned with the fact that now he, too, has blood spread over the limb. He stops a few steps away from Tosen, bending slightly at the waist in his direction, head completely tipping to the right with that creepy smile of his. _

"_I just need you to tell me if you have seen a few of Aizen's favorites. Say…" He trails off, bringing his index finger to press against his lips as if in thought, before murring out the words slowly, slyly. "Perhaps Ulquiorra?" He makes a small, amused sound, leaning closer, "Or Stark." The last name is whispered out as if in conspiracy._

_Tosen is not one for games, but nevertheless he answers blandly, unconcerned with whatever it is that Gin might be trying to do. He chooses to ignore the strange spike of confident pride that radiates from the orange haired male, wondering how far the young man has actually allowed his mind to break. _

"_I have not seen Ulquiorra." He pauses at the increase of amusement from Ichigo before continuing. "However, Stark was in the West Wing roughly five minutes ago." _

"_Ah! Thank you, thank you, much obliged." Gin titters out the words, stepping out of the way as suddenly a rather large surge of disbelieving anger fills the hallway, and he slides closer to Ichigo, face masked in mock concern._

"_Oh my, Ichigo. What seems to be the problem?" _

_The orange haired male has his chin dipped against his chest, eyes hidden by his long bangs, though his chin is clenched tightly and his muscles have tensed. The words, when they finally come, are soft and slow, the calm before a storm. _

"_You say Stark is in the West Wing?" Tosen considers the situation carefully, even as Gin answers for him. _

"_Why, that is what Tosen said, isn't it I-chi-go?"_

_Silence so deafening stretches out, enveloping the three, as Gin's grin grows more and he flitters away, heading down the hallway in the direction that Tosen has just come from, flippantly waving to them both. _

"_Ah, must be getting to Stark now. I am sure that HE knows where Ulquiorra is!" And then he is gone, happily, gleefully leaving the time bomb to explode without him anywhere nearby._

…_.._

END.

No, I'm just joking, obviously.

But yeah. Sorry this chapter took so long.


	10. Shambles

Kiss: Before I say anything more. I absolutely love you. Will you marry me? We can move to California and it will be legal and all! I mean, seriously, and we could fantasize about AiIchi love and even go so far as to go to a sex store and… ahem. Nevermind, forgive my small lapse of sanity. Anyways, on with what I am really trying to say. You, my delightful cream puff, are perhaps the most insightful, most intriguing little butterfly I have ever had review my stories. I am glad that you continue to enjoy them, and that you are picking up the little hints I throw here and there. I am glad so many scenarios are running through your mind, and even more so that you share them with me! I hope you continue to enjoy this story, even when some chapters seem lacking! Much love, yours truly, Me. 3

Mindless

Shambles

"Is this fake?"

He can feel everything around him slow to a stop, can hear every breath of air becoming shallow. The man before him does not bat an eyelash, but the people behind him suddenly freeze. He does not look back at them, those blank eyes taking in Aizen, watching him as he has always watched him.

Everything seems to go in slow motion for Ichigo, that dual presence in his mind still settled in harmony even as the darker half, the hollow half, fully lets go of his mind, and the control that it has had upon him since leaving Las Noches, but that means very little to Ichigo, who had for a while taken the back seat in order to see, to watch.

Finally the chocolate haired man's lips part to allow a string of words that make Ichigo even more twisted than when he had heard the declaration of Tosen that the Espada that he had felt beneath his hands, that he had tasted of blood, were still alive.

"Of what, Ichigo, do you speak of?"

Leave it to Aizen to be so carefree, so aloof. Ichigo's eyes narrow, the only truly visible part of his eyes being the never ending blackness, and he grows eerily still as well, his clothing shifting in the small breeze that lifts up around them.

"Don't play with me, Aizen." It's a demand, and yet somehow still a request. Their eyes meet and Aizen tilts his head to the side, chin jutting out to the side, before he speaks as well.

"Answer my question first." A command, one that has the Soul Reapers reacting in much the same way; pure shock. They don't understand, can't exactly comprehend, what is going on. With the exception of Hitsugaya, of course.

This, of course, makes Ichigo pause.

Why _had _he killed Tosen?

True, he had lapsed into a momentary fit of rage when hearing the man's words. But why had he directed his ire towards him?

His mind had come up with a perfectly good reason why the man should die at the time, but for the life of him, he can't remember what that reasoning was. Go figure.

He reaches back behind his head to scratch absently at his neck.

What was it? Something had set him off. Something had made him so angry that…

"_However, Stark was in the West Wing roughly five minutes ago…"_

Ichigo immediately clasps his head as he squeezes his eyes tightly shut, shaking his head from side to side in a declining way.

"_I am pleased, Ichigo. We shall destroy Karakura Town and I will rule the Soul Society.."_

He growls, a low fierce sound that bubbles up from the back of his throat to spill out for everyone to hear.

"_With you as my second…."_

His lips part and he tangles his fingers in his own orange blonde hair as he bows over, tears threatening the corner of his eyes, a scream building in the back of his throat.

"_I am pleased."_

And he thrashes out with his riatsu, regardless of the Soul Reapers nearby, regardless of any humans. Regardless of any damage it may cause.

The only one that seems unaffected, the only one that his riatsu does not angrily whip out at, is Aizen. The man stands tall, watching Ichigo as he goes through his little fit, all the while not moving an inch. The wild sound that rips from Ichigo's chest makes him narrow his eyes, however, his arms hanging at his sides as Ichigo takes a stumbled step towards him, the thrashing power quickly receeding though still bubbling up just beneath his last shred of sanity.

"You lied to me. Tosen knew the truth. Tosen told me that Grimmjow is still alive."

He turns burning, accusing eyes on the other man, teeth clenched as he allows his fisted hands to fall to his sides as well.

Aizen takes a deep breath and his eyes move to focus on the Soul Reapers watching their exchange. Well, this is unexpected. He hadn't counted on Ichigo finding out that he had not actually killed the Espada. But, he can still use this.

His gaze returns to Ichigo before he speaks.

"It was necessary for you to release the anger you held within you for them. I need both you and my Espada to complete my mission. Our mission, Ichigo. You tasted your revenge, though it be real or not. Is that not enough?"

He steps closer to the younger male, noting the anger and hurt still swirling in his gaze.

"You did draw their blood, they are currently recovering, though you did a rather large amount of damage before I stepped in. Do you understand, Ichigo? It was imperative that you believed it, that you felt it. Now, you can be rid of it."

Silence stretches between them, in Ichigo can feel the anger, the disbelief, fading from his body like a wave receding at low tide from ravaged shores. He _wants _to believe in Aizen. He _must _believe in Aizen. He takes a deep breath, feeling that presence in his mind falling back into a much more passive stance, and the corners of his lips twitch, as if in a smile.

"So, is this Karakura town fake?"

The question is conversational at best, light and uncaring as he turns his head to peer over his shoulder at the Soul Reapers who mill about outside of the shop that once meant so much to him, lingering somewhat on Rukia, blankly taking her in.

There is a pause, a stretch of silence, before Ichigo feels the heat of the other male as he draws up to him, putting them nearly chest to chest, and strong arms wrap around him in a tight embrace, bringing his face to rest against the side of his neck, caressing his hair in an almost tender way.

"That's right, Ichigo. This Karakura town, and those in it, are fake. Replicas. Down to the very Soul Reapers you long to see. It is meant to be an illusion that they have casted to make you leave the very one who has attempted to save what's left of your soul."

Ichigo closes his eyes, taking in a deep breath, inhaling the scent that is so completely Aizen. "Will you let their monstrous trickery fool you, Ichigo? Or shall we return to our Palace, to our sanctuary, and grow stronger, grow better?"

Each word grows softer, like a lullaby, and at the end of his small speech, Ichigo's arms have crept up and looped around Aizen's waist, his face hidden completely by Aizen's embrace, and he mumbles out the only thing that he can manage.

"Take us home."

And he misses the wickedly triumphant smirk that Aizen sends the dumbfounded Soul Reapers as he cuts out their frantic cries from his hearing, ignoring what he is so sure, so certain, is fake.

…..

Short, I know, but I hope you enjoy. Sorry for the incredibly late update.


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